


Rumors

by thepinkbunnywrites



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love, Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, True Love, Tsunderes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 21:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21464683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinkbunnywrites/pseuds/thepinkbunnywrites
Summary: Rumors have it that I, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, can't keep my hands off of my wife.Psh, I'll show them. I can resist her. No matter how her beautiful eyes beckon me with their green depths. Or how her sinful, plump mouth tempt me to taste it and run my tongue across its seams.And her body. Good gods, her body.I can do it... Right?
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! The mood struck me to write about our favorite tsundere today. This is going to be a quick one, a two chapter smut, just to get it out of my system. Haha! 
> 
> I'm also writing a Dimileth series called "The Lion's Seduction" if you're interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426849/chapters/48458834. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you drop a comment below! I love reading your feedback. :)

“You know, there’s a rumor going around the dukedom. And it’s a very interesting one at that,” Sylvain says as he gets into position in front of me, his sword in the air, his dominant right foot stepping behind the other. He’s bracing for my attack.

Psh, how predictable. No doubt he’s thinking I’ll swing my sword from above, so he’ll leverage on his current stance to dodge back.

_I can see right through you, you dimwit. If this was the battlefield, you’d be dead._

“Aren’t you going to ask what the rumor is about?”

“Shut up.” I barely listen to him as I breathe in. Preparing for my surprise attack from my left.

Just when I release the Sword of Zoltan from its sheath, I hear him say, “Well, since you’re so curious, I might as well say it. It’s about you and Byleth.”

_Byleth?_

I stagger mid-strike. Damn it.

Sylvain sees where I draw my blade, and swiftly counters it. Our swords clang as they collide, filling the training room with its sharp, metallic sound.

Both of us leap back to our original positions.

“What about Byleth?” I demand. “I swear, if this is some cheap trick to distract me, I’ll throttle you.”

Sylain has the audacity to laugh. The ass. “What a temper. Really, Felix, shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, more patient now that you’re Duke Fraldarius? And married to the Archbishop of Seiros at that? You should be setting a good example to your people.”

_Good example, my foot._ “Look, are you going to answer my question or should I beat the answer out of you? Your choice.”

Again, he laughs.

I grit my teeth.

“Has the Professor told you that you’re so cute when you’re angry?”

I can’t take any more of this nonsense. Without preamble, I take two fast steps forward, and swing my blade upward from the ground.

I wait for my sword to pierce through his shirt.

It doesn’t happen.

_What the – ? _

At the last second, Sylvain apparently side-stepped to his left, and now runs his elbow down on my forearms before I get a chance to draw back. The shock of it causes me to lose my grip on my sword.

It clatters pathetically onto the ground.

The next moment, I feel the unmistakable touch of cold steel at the back of my neck. When I turn to him, I see Sylvain’s face erupt in a nauseating smile.

“Cute _and_ _careless_,” he says gleefully. He waits a few seconds longer than necessary before he replaces his sword back into its scabbard, sending me a clear message that he’s won this round. “Wow, this has got to be our fastest fight ever. I’m definitely writing this on my journal tonight.”

_Damn it. Damn him._ Scowling, I pick up Zoltan from the ground and straighten up. “It’s because you cheated.”

“Cheat? Me? I was only telling the truth.”

Instead of mirroring Sylvain and putting my sword back, I quickly lift it in an unexpected move and position the tip on his chest, directly above his heart. I take enjoyment in the flash of panic that crosses his ocher eyes.

“Damn it, Felix! You could’ve killed me!”

He’s not exaggerating. If he made a move forward, he would’ve been pierced through clean. Having acquainted with his mannerisms, though, I knew he wasn’t going to. He always does that annoying stretch backward after a fight.

“Kill you? Can’t say I haven’t thought of it.” I dig the tip deeper onto his chest. “Now out with it. What’s all this about a rumor concerning Byleth?”

“Fine, fine. Just take that away before you skewer me, alright?” He rubs his chest comically when I do as he asks. “Remind me why I’m still friends with you.”

“Don’t ask me. I have no idea.” I cross my arms. “Now tell me.”

I expect Sylvain to be annoyed—angry, even—but instead, he flashes me a wide grin.

I can never understand him.

With a strange expression on his face, he lowers his voice and dons a rough accent, which I recognize as the one used by the lower class. “Rumaw ‘as it ve Duke of Fraldarius is ‘ead-over-‘eels in love wiv ‘is missus, the Archbishop. Obsessed even. Why, ‘e can’t ewen go one nigh’ wivout makin’ love to ‘er.”

Instantly, a mixture of embarrassment and anger sweeps through me upon hearing this. My mind explodes with both questions and threats. _How the hell do they know? Who dare spread this to others? I’ll kill them. Once I find out, I’ll kill them all._

Out of my anger and utter shock, I end up sputtering like an imbecile. “How—Who—I—"

“Your reaction—oh gods, that’s _priceless_.” Sylvain’s cheeks quiver with the force it takes him from laughing at my expense. “Y-you’re red as a tomato.”

My nostrils flare while I take deep, calming breaths. They don’t work. “H-how the hell did you hear about that?” I grab a fistful on his brown shirt. “Tell me now.”

“Hey, don’t kill the messenger. I’m just telling you what I heard when I got here earlier. Heck, almost everyone’s talking about it—the merchants, the maids. _Everyone_. It’s a surprise you haven’t heard of it, though I doubt anyone would tell it to your face.”

My mind reels at this.

I release him.

_How… how the hell… do they know?_

While I stand rooted on the spot like a mute, I hear Sylvain give an awkward cough in front of me. I don’t have the strength to meet his gaze. “Er, so seeing as you’re not denying it, it must be true then?” A pause. “Even the story about you two in the orangery?”

To my consternation, my blood races for a completely different reason now. Memories of what happened in the orangery fill my head. Me surprising Byleth with an embrace while she cares for the damned oranges. A kiss is exchanged. Then, more insistent ones. Byleth gasping when I shove her bodice down. My mouth feasting on her naked breasts. My hands pushing her skirt higher, until they reach her inner things. My fingers opening her damp sex, just enough so I can shove my—

Good. Gods.

I’m getting hard.

I whirl to the opposite direction before I embarrass myself. My voice comes out as a croak when I speak up, “Use your brain. That’s clearly a bold-faced lie. Do you really think I’m the type to rut with my wife in such a public place?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He doesn’t sound convinced in the least. “You do know you’re a different person when it comes to the Professor, don’t you, Felix?”

“That’s stupid, and you know it,” is the best comeback I can think of.

I suddenly feel the weight of his arm on my shoulder, his hand tousling my head in that annoying way he used to do when we were kids. He has the gall to give me a wink and a lopsided grin.

“Look, I’m happy for you, seeing you in so love and all that. Just… be careful when you do it, you know? People aren’t stupid. They’re going to wag their tongues when they discover the Duke and his wife, who also happens to be the Hero of Fodlan and Archbishop of the Church, mind you, making love in the Training Hall.” He stabs his thumb in the direction of the wooden bench next to the racks of lances. “Really, Felix? _There_? You two could get hurt, you know?”

_Shit, they know about that, too?_

I know a losing battle when I see one, and I do the only thing I can in this situation: escape.

Swatting his hand away, I swivel towards the door.

“Hey, don’t forget about the meeting with the Knights tomorrow. At the crack of dawn,” he calls out.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You better sleep early tonight, okay? No nightly activities for you, mister.”

I mutter out a curse loud enough for him to hear.

His response is a deep-throated laugh that follows me even outside the Training Hall.


End file.
